


Gunmetal Blue

by lilhoney



Series: Haikyuu Fics and AUs [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Angst, Bokuaka - Freeform, Bokuto Koutarou is a Mess, Bromance, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Encounters, Implied Smut, Kidnapping, KuroKen - Freeform, M/M, Mutual Pining, Rivalry, Romance, Sharing a Bed, Torafuku, Trauma, Yakuza AU, bokuto and akaashi don't know how to talk about feelings, clan wars, god there's so much angst im sorry, implied SakuAtsu, implied aofuta - Freeform, implied daisuga, implied yakulev - Freeform, may or may not have killed your favs, past KuroAka - Freeform, some violence, the power of f r i e n d s h i p
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:53:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27502603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilhoney/pseuds/lilhoney
Summary: “Akaashi can handle himself, y’know.”"...yeah." Of course Bokuto knew. He'd known him the longest out of everyone in the clan, and had obviously been close to him since day one.But if he really believed Akaashi would be okay, why did he feel so much more protective over Akaashi than anyone else?In the midst of an inevitable clan war between the "Silver Lynxes," led by Bokuto Koutarou, and the "Golden Foxes," led by Sakusa Kiyoomi, Bokuto and his second-in-command, Akaashi Keiji, are forced to reckon with unaddressed feelings, a connected past, and the prospects of a future... both for them, and for their clan.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Akaashi Keiji, Fukunaga Shouhei/Yamamoto Taketora, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: Haikyuu Fics and AUs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2028124
Comments: 11
Kudos: 46





	1. The Warehouse District

**Author's Note:**

> (Third story of my “Bokuaka AUs and Fics,” Collection, be sure to check that out for more, non-individually published content like this!)  
> (That’s just the title, it’s not a series (whoops), just a single work compiled and organized into different Fics and AUs! So far, I have a Soft Domestic Fic and a Coma AU there, but feel free to skip around!)

It had been almost an hour since Akaashi disappeared behind those doors, and Bokuto was getting a little antsy. Him, Kenma, Komi, and Konoha waited outside the decrypt warehouse. Bokuto stared off into the calm sea beyond the docks while knowing Akaashi was interrogating a spy they'd found within their ranks inside.

Bokuto knew he'd be fine. Besides, he'd sent Kuroo in too, just in case things got too physical. He wasn't their second lieutenant for nothing, after all. But Bokuto knew he could never be too careful with these things.

Especially since he knew Akaashi could sometimes get a little... unhinged.

_And especially since Akaashi nearly got killed a few months ago._

Konoha glanced at his boss through the smoke of a rapidly shortening cigarette and sighed, shaking his head slightly as he gazed out at the sea glittering in moonlight just beyond the docks. "Akaashi can handle himself, y'know."

"...yeah." Of course Bo knew. He should've known it better than anyone else, after all. He'd known him the longest out of everyone in the clan, and had obviously been close to him since day one.

But if he really believed Akaashi would be okay, why was the soft crash of waves in the distance the only thing keeping him rooted?

Why did he feel so much more protective over Akaashi than anyone else?

Konoha, one the clan's _komon_ , cocked a dark blond brow in response. "You sure? Because you still look kinda constipated, dude."

Komi hid a snicker behind his hand and even Kenma, who was always doing something or other on his phone, looked up briefly to smirk at Konoha in agreement.

Bokuto huffed. "That's no way to treat your boss! I could have you kicked out of the clan, you know?"

The three other men didn't flinch at all when threatened. If anything, they looked exasperated. Always the drama queen, Bokuto was. Komi shrugged and picked at some dirt under his fingernails. "You're still the same guy we went to high school with all those years ago, Bo. We know you'd never do that to us."

Bokuto mumbled under his breath and pulled his coat tighter around himself, a way of admitting defeat. They were right. He loved them all too much to even think about cutting them out of his life. Maybe the former _oyabun_ was right about him being too soft on his subordinates.

Finally, the entrance to the warehouse slid open, just slightly. Bokuto eagerly pushed himself off the wall and the other three did the same. Kuroo had opened the door to reveal a worn-out looking Akaashi Keiji wiping blood off his hands with a now-stained handkerchief. Bokuto cleared his throat, making his tone all-business and trying in vain not to seem too relieved. Akaashi would probably hate that. "Well?"

Kuroo furtively glanced back inside. "...Akaashi got him to talk."

"The spy was from Sakusa's clan." Akaashi offered, his voice even and unwavering as always. "I think they might be trying to infiltrate our supply chain. Or at the very least, gather information on it."

"Ah. I see..." Bokuto couldn't stop looking at the blood spattered across Akaashi's cheek and the crimson stains in his rolled-up sleeves. "Um. That's not... your blood, is it?"

Akaashi paused, the once-white handkerchief flowing in the gentle breeze as it hung between his fingers. It obviously wasn't, but it's not like Akaashi was going to retort with that. Maybe before the incident he'd happily reply with an off-handed sarcastic comment, but not anymore. "No. I'm fine, Koutarou."

He definitely wasn't. Luckily, Bokuto knew no one else could tell.

He nodded and looked away a little too quickly. "Yeah. I knew you'd be. Just... making sure."

Kuroo glanced between the two of them, then back inside, like he didn't want to keep his eyes off of the apparent spy. Or what's left of him, at least. Bokuto still didn't know how the alleged spy looked right about now, but judging by how much blood was soaked into Akaashi's clothes, he'd be surprised if the guy was even alive anymore. He and Kuroo exchanged glances, at least a few hundred words traded between the two in less than a second. The latter nodded and looked to the other three men, who'd been watching the entire interaction. "Kenma. Konoha. Komi. Help me clean up, yeah?"

The three squeezed past Kuroo's shoulder with little to no complaint, except for Kenma, who made sure to briefly voice his annoyance with having to pause his game to Kuroo. To be fair, Kenma was in a position high-ranked enough to where he barely ever had to do grunt work. And he never had to do field work in his department, anyway.

However, he reluctantly complied, knowing now probably wasn't the time to be lazy. Kuroo chuckled wholeheartedly and reminded Kenma to put his gloves back on. They couldn't leave too many traces. Everyone knew how much of a secret the events of that night had to be kept. For now, none of the other clan members could know about the situation until they definitely knew more.

Also, it was cold, and Kuroo knew he'd be the one taking care of Kenma if he got sick.

Bokuto met the gaze of his _shategashira_. "Alright. Take care of things here, yeah?" He peered over at Akaashi, who continued to absentmindedly run his damp handkerchief over his knuckles, which were still stained a deep red. "...I think I'm gonna head home. Maybe help Akaashi get cleaned up."

Kuroo nodded, his dark eyes unusually sullen tonight. Bokuto reminded himself that maybe he should give Kuroo a vacation one of these days. "'Kay. You two make sure to get some rest."

"Yeah, man. You too. 'Night, Kuroo."

"G'night, 'boss.'"

As soon as the massive metal sliding door squealed shut, Bokuto was once again left with the steady sound of the ocean against the creaking wood of the fishing docks nearby, the fleeting smell of cigarette smoke, the hollow light of the moon against the warehouse district's smooth tin roofs, and... Akaashi Keiji, who had barely even so much as breathed since coming outside. Bokuto didn't know whether to feel relieved that Akaashi wasn't hurt or cautious that maybe Akaashi had done something he regretted. To tell the truth, none of the young men had been very well built for yakuza work.

Either way, Bokuto didn't like how Akaashi looked so... blank just now. As in, actually. Only Bo knew the difference between Akaashi's usual nonchalance and... whatever this was.

Bokuto turned and found his second-in-command already heading up the stairs against the concrete cliff, which led back up to street-level, where their driver was waiting.

Ah. So Akaashi wasn't in a talking mood. Bo figured as much, but still pouted as he followed behind by at least twenty steps.

Things between them hadn't been the same since the incident. Bokuto still couldn't sleep without replaying the events of that night.

The image of Akaashi clutching at the bullet wound at his side, the sound of shuddered breaths through tightly clenched teeth as he desperately tried to bite back the pain. That's the one that forever stuck with him the most. Bokuto still couldn't tell what he was felt at that moment. Fear? Anger? Desperation? All he knew was that he was lucky that his body knew exactly what to do, geared off only solid instinct. He couldn't exactly remember gunning down their opponents or running to catch Akaashi before he fell, but he could remember the dark blue gleam fading from Akaashi's eyes as blood continued to seep through his shirt and over his fingers. Bokuto could remember hearing himself fervently telling Akaashi to hold on for just a little longer, the panic in his voice rising as Akaashi helplessly looked up at him.

Most of all, he remembered Akaashi's breaths starting to shallow and the way his heart dropped when the younger man uttered "Koutarou" like it'd be the last thing he ever said.

Bokuto couldn't forget any of it. How could he? Even after that night, after countless other nights of sleeping beside Akaashi's hospital bed and of swinging by his apartment to check on him after he was discharged, Bokuto still felt a heavy guilt in the pit of his stomach, believing that none of this would've happened if he'd just been quicker. Maybe if he'd been more careful or observant, Akaashi wouldn't have gotten hurt. Maybe Bokuto wouldn't have almost lost him that night. Maybe it even could've been him instead. Bokuto shook his head lightly as he combed his hair back with his fingers. He was never the type to focus on the past before, and he wasn't sure why he was doing it now.

Even as Bo settled in the leather seat next to Akaashi in the limousine, he couldn't help but glance over at the darker-haired gentleman, as if checking up on him again.

"Where to?" Their driver asked, his eyes meeting theirs in the rearview mirror.

Before Bokuto could answer, Akaashi turned his head to his senior and questioned, "Do you mind if I stay at yours tonight?"

Bokuto was caught slightly off-guard. This was only the fourth or so time Akaashi had spoken to him the entire evening. Maybe only the fiftieth in the months since he got injured.

But Bokuto recovered quickly. He turned to the driver and vocalized the location of his house and nodded to Akaashi as an answer. The latter briefly acknowledged this and went back to using his handkerchief to dig at the blood under his fingernails.

As they pulled away from the warehouse and fishing district, Bokuto stared out the window at the passing greenery, deep in thought. He wondered if maybe Akaashi resented him for not being able to save him that night. However, that was just... so out of depth for Akaashi. The younger man had trusted Bokuto ever since they'd met in his first year of high school and joined the lower ranks of the yakuza. They'd been the best of friends for only a little more than a decade now, and Bokuto knew Akaashi would never blame him for something like that.

 _Then why isn't he talking to me anymore?_ Bokuto thought. They used to be so close, even after Bo took over as the oyabun of the clan two years ago. But now... he gazed upon Akaashi- his junior, his former teammate, his current _wakagashira_ \- who stared out the car window at nothing in particular, his usually calculating stare completely unfocused. And he realized that since a few months ago, Akaashi had become a stranger to him.

Well. Maybe not completely.

_"I'm fine, Koutarou."_

Akaashi still called him by his first name. That had to mean something, right?   
  


Bokuto was currently living in a small mansion outside Tokyo. The former _oyabun_ had given him the keys, saying he wouldn't need that house anymore. That man saw Bo as a son, considering he never had his own children. The younger man was lucky to be so recognized by someone so powerful, but now, after years has passed and he'd been suddenly burdened with maintaining the entire clan, he wasn't so sure. Bokuto missed the days when he would fool around with Akaashi in the lower, gang ranks back in their high school years. Komi and Konoha didn't join until a little later, and Kuroo and Kenma had been in the more business-oriented side of the clan, so for about a year, it was just the two of them with a few other gang members as they climbed the ranks. And now, here they were, in massive leadership positions, and possibly some of the youngest people to do so. Conveniently, most of the older leaders had died in what can only be described as the war a few years ago between their clan and a rival one- the one that was now being led by Kiyoomi Sakusa. And even more conveniently, Bokuto was appointed as the next _oyabun_ , and presumably the same happened to Sakusa as well.

Bokuto had Akaashi become his second-in-command as his first lieutenant: his _wakagashira_.

Kuroo as their second lieutenant- their _shategashira_ \- to help carry out orders and operations.

Kenma as his _saiko-komon_ to essentially be Bokuto's finance advisor and the one to oversee the business branch.

Then Konoha as an overhead of a small region nearby.

And Komi to generally serve the big four as anything they required, whether it be a bodyguard, a leader to the lower-ranked, or an operation manager.

Since all six of them had known each other for so long- even playing volleyball with one another back in high school- they already had the established trust between each other (and not to mention the skill,) needed to run the clan. Maybe not the experience, though. Bokuto worried constantly that the other clan leaders and his subordinates wouldn't respect him. Yet he and his crew hadn't managed to run into any trouble.

Not yet, at least.

Tensions were rising between the clans once again despite the peace agreement he and Sakusa had established as new oyabuns. The alleged spy in their ranks was only the half of it. Before then, Sakusa's men were already encroaching on their territory, Bokuto's men retaliated by doing the same. Bokuto knew he shouldn't have taken any of the bait Sakusa threw at him, but he was also powerless. If he didn't do anything, he'd be seen as too soft. Again. But if he did, he was only insinuating the issue further. There was no winning in this situation. Bokuto figured he'd soon have to prepare for another clan war.

"Koutarou."

Bokuto blinked and turned his head to Akaashi, who was already looking back with impossibly beautiful moonlit blue eyes. "Yeah?"

Akaashi nodded outside the window. "We've arrived."

Ah. So they had. Bokuto didn't even notice the limo had stopped. "...Right."

Once inside, Bokuto made sure to lock the door behind him and carefully take a quick gaze around the entrance hall to make sure everything was still as he left it. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found that everything seemed untouched. They were safe. Most likely, at least.

He watched as Akaashi headed to the upstairs bathroom, already knowing where to go even though it'd been months since he'd last stayed the night.

Bokuto shook away the memory of that last thing. There was no time to be thinking about things like that anymore. He had to focus, after all. There was business to think about and his men to worry about.

But then the memory of that one night, of Akaashi's eyes reflecting the light from his bedroom window came back to him like an unwelcome surge of water that refused to be held back by a levee. The jumpy feeling in his stomach as Akaashi combed his fingers through his silver and black hair. The millions of words they exchanged that night and the quiet bursts of laughter that Bokuto managed to ease from the stoic Akaashi.  
  
All of it made Bokuto feel nostalgic and warm for one moment, but cold and bitter the next. He couldn't help but think: _god, what happened to us?_


	2. He Was Begging For His Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi lets his walls down once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone! just a reminder that if you like this fic, be sure to check out my “Bokuaka AUs and Fics” for more!

Thankfully, he couldn't have any more time to longingly reflect on distant memories. He heard Akaashi curse under his breath from inside the bathroom, his voice unusually strained. It was a bit of a rare occurrence, so Bokuto went up and lightly pushed at the slightly open door to check up on Akaashi.

The younger man was sitting on the countertop, his deeply stained handkerchief already abandoned near the sink. Akaashi looked up, but Bokuto couldn't tell whether or not he cared to see him. "...everything okay?" Bokuto managed to ask somewhat cheerfully.

Akaashi pressed his lips together and pulled at his stained shirt sleeves, which were still rolled up past his elbows. "I'm fine."

He continued to fumble trying to pull the dress shirt sleeves back down. It was a painful sight to see someone who was typically so aloof to slowly lose it. In truth, maybe it had already been happening for years, but only became evident now.

Bokuto allowed himself in. Gently, he reached out a hand towards Akaashi's arm, knowing the latter flinched easily. "Here. Let me."

His _wakagashira_ hesitated. Ultimately, though, Bokuto's soft, steady voice was enough to coax Akaashi into complying. He lifted his arm up to meet Bokuto's hands. The silver-and-black haired man took care to delicately roll the young man's sleeves back down, once again concealing Akaashi's defined forearms and further revealing the smattered blood across the shirt's light blue fabric. Bokuto decided not to ask what happened inside the warehouse. It was probably his business to know, but he could always ask Kuroo later. "I'll get you a spare set of clothes to sleep in after you take a shower, yeah?"

Akaashi only vaguely nodded in response.

Bokuto sighed and focused on the other sleeve once he was done with the right one. "I'll... lend you one of the guest rooms. You can stay as long as you'd like."

The younger man blinked at that and actually glanced up to meet his senior's golden eyes. Bokuto hated that he couldn't tell what he was thinking anymore. "Oh. Sure."

"You can sleep in my room, too." Bokuto offered a little too quickly. He froze as the realization of what he'd just said hit him like a ton of bricks. "Only if you want to, though. Just because... you've done it before, y'know? Only if you're more comfortable that way. You can still sleep in a guest room, too. If you want."

Akaashi shrugged and looked away. "Sure."

Bokuto finished rolling down the other sleeve, reached for the blood-stained handkerchief, and ran the corner under cold water. "Oh. I forgot to tell you. Kuroo said there's a few new members that wanna join." He said, changing the subject. Half out of embarrassment and half out of habit, just because he couldn't linger on one subject for very long in a conversation. He happened to just bounce from one to the other very often. "We'd have to screen them, right? Or do you think we shouldn't take new members anymore?"

Akaashi thought for a moment before responding. "We can hold off from initiating new members for now. We've gotten lower in numbers, but it's not worth the risk. If we get desperate, we can open the admission process again, but not at least for another few months."

Bokuto nodded in agreement. This was precisely why Akaashi was his right-hand man. "You're right. As always, Keiji." He said as he ran the damp handkerchief corner over the faint bloodstain still on Akaashi's cheek. The both of them had barely noticed it was still there. Surprisingly, the younger of the two didn't flinch at the sudden physical contact, but rather, he only paused momentarily at the tenderness of the gesture. Bokuto prevailed anyway. The entire interaction only lasted mere seconds, but to the two of them, it felt like years. "There." Bokuto whispered. He was left to stare at Akaashi's subtle handsome features, from the way his hair was always tousled but not too much so, how his hands looked strong but nimble, and the way his jawline curved, defined and to a point. As expected, though, Bo always found his eyes the most captivating. They looked almost black from far away, but up close, they shone a type of dark, sea blue with slight green undertones. Bokuto couldn't count the number of times he'd stared into those eyes, trying to decipher Akaashi's thoughts. At one point, he could, but now Akaashi was back to being an enigma.

"...What?" Akaashi finally filled the silence, breaking Bokuto's stare. The former looked away, but Bokuto still noticed with some satisfaction the nice tint of pink the tops of Akaashi's ears were turning.

Bokuto chuckled to himself. "Ah, nothing. You already know how much I always liked your eyes."

"At least you're always direct." Akaashi sighed almost exasperatedly, with what could only be described as a small, fond smile. The type that forces its way into your face, whether you realize it not, and whether you like it or not. Bo met Akaashi's gaze after rinsing the handkerchief and found the younger man already staring back at him. The latter parted his lips slightly as if about to say something, but seemed to decide against it and quickly glanced away. "...I'll be taking that shower, then."

Bokuto blinked and turned towards the door to hide his disappointment. "Right. Yeah, I'll get you those clothes, then."

"Okay."

That night, Akaashi chose not to stay in one of the guest rooms. Not only was Bokuto internally screaming at the thought of sharing a bed with Akaashi Keiji again, but Akaashi also looked breathtaking in the clothes Bokuto let him borrow. They only consisted of a t-shirt and some sweatpants, but seeing how the shirt loosely hung over his shoulders and how the sweatpants continually sagged on Akaashi's slim waist made Bokuto's heart swell.

"Goodnight," Akaashi said as he switched off the lights and crawled under the covers on the other side of the bed from Bokuto, his hair still slightly damp from the shower.

"'Night." Bokuto responded softly, trying not to stare.

Akaashi laid facing Bokuto and only made eye contact with him for a fraction of a second before looking away from him once more. A thousand wordless emotions had been exchanged between the two in that fraction of a second. Bokuto had barely ever felt so close, yet so far from someone.

"Keiji?"

"Yes?"

Bokuto opened his mouth, so many thoughts swimming through his head, but no way to say any of them. He shook his head to himself and sighed. "I... nevermind. I'll let you sleep now."

Akaashi blinked, and for a moment, it was almost like he was disappointed. But Bokuto figured that must've just been his imagination. "Ah. Okay."

Bokuto rolled over in bed so he could stare out the window instead of thinking about staring at Akaashi instead. He couldn't help but let the memories of their last night together like this flood back to him once more, filling him with both a certain sense of warmth... and loss.

That night, they'd gone out drinking together, just the two of them, and Akaashi had let down his walls for once. Just for Bokuto. And Bokuto had talked to him about everything and anything, but mostly about their old days in high school. And when a flustered and reddened Bokuto asked Akaashi to spend the night at his house, Akaashi had agreed. And after a few, glorious hours of finally releasing the unrelenting, unyielding desire Bokuto had for Akaashi after all those years, the two laid facing each other, fingers intertwined, voices gentle. Bokuto couldn't help but remember how Akaashi's lips felt against his neck, or how his hands hungrily roamed across Bokuto's bare back. Couldn't help but remember the way Akaashi breathed Bokuto's name as he dug his nails into his skin, how it seemed like they were seeing each other for the first time.

How Akaashi held Bokuto in his arms afterward and peppered kisses along his jaw and hairline. The way they were able to talk with such ease, and how Bokuto fell in love with Akaashi even more as he noticed the subtle gleam in the other's eyes.

There was a chance him and Akaashi couldn't restore their relationship to what it once was. And it absolutely killed him inside.

Sometimes, Bokuto wanted to scream and yell at Akaashi, asking _"why?"_

_"Was I not good enough?"_

_"Could I have done something different?"_

_"Why can't you just come back to me?"_

And yet, he knew he could never bring himself to raise his voice that way at his wakagashira, despite how close they'd always been. He knew how sensitive Akaashi could be, deep down. And he knew that there was probably nothing to be done. That didn't feel okay with him, but he feels like he loves Akaashi enough to let him go. He knew it would have to happen eventually, but he didn't expect it to be so soon.

Sighing once again to himself, Bokuto finally closed his eyes and felt himself drift into a deep sleep, but then he heard a painfully familiar sound.

Across the bed, he heard the quiet, desperately restrained crying of his beloved, then the sound of skin sliding across skin as he tried to squeeze a hand over his own mouth. Bokuto gently turned to face Akaashi's back and how his shoulders trembled with soft sobs.

For a terrible moment, Bo considered that maybe it would be best if he left him alone. Akaashi hated being seen as weak. As vulnerable. But Bokuto knew. He'd let him in once, he had to let him in once more. Bokuto reached an arm to the other side of the bed, letting his knuckles graze the younger man's shoulder. "Keiji?"

Despite the slow movement, Akaashi still flinched, and it made Bokuto grimace. He hated doing that to him. "Keiji..."

Akaashi stiffened. No answer.

"Keiji, look at me." Bokuto whispered, fighting off the shake in his voice.

Akaashi reluctantly turned in bed to face the older man, whose expression softened at the sight of tears running down Akaashi's face, how his usually steady hands started to shake, and how his eyes gave way to something that resembled guilt... perhaps even dread. Bokuto parted his lips to speak, but Akaashi beat him to it with five words he never thought he'd hear him say. "Could you hold me...? Please."

Akaashi's voice had been incredibly hollow, his words no longer carrying the conviction they would during the day and when he was commanding their subordinates. For just one small, painful moment, he was letting his walls down again. Bokuto held Akaashi's face in one hand and pulled him close with the other. "I've got you," Bo pressed a tender kiss into Akaashi's hair and realized with delight that he didn't flinch this time. "I've got you." He repeated, letting Akaashi cry into his chest, his quiet sobbing echoing through the empty bedroom and making Bokuto's heart cry along with him.

"He was begging for his life, Koutarou." Akaashi leaned against Bokuto's chest, trying to calm himself. "He... He was..." He took a quivering breath. "He was just a kid."

Bokuto held him closer. And tried to ignore how that subordinate in particular reminded him of himself when he was eighteen, too. "You didn't do anything wrong." He said soothingly. He pressed another kiss against Akaashi's temple, and to his relief, Akaashi's cries quieted for a moment. "He could've hurt us. Our livelihood. We were doing what was best for the clan."

The young _wakagashira_ bit his lip, considering carefully what he needed to say. "He was just following orders, Kou. And I..." Akaashi shook his head against the front of Bokuto's shirt. "I..."

He started crying harder, to which Bokuto held him closer, letting his body warmth envelop Akaashi. "I know, Keiji."

God, he'd known it all too well. The first time he'd ended up killing someone, he remembered Akaashi having to stroke his hair while he weeped into him for hours. And although Akaashi had tortured and killed before with no problem, Bokuto could see that this was much different. This hit too close to home.

Bokuto Koutarou and Akaashi Keiji hadn't been built for this life. None of them had. Yet now they had a responsibility to uphold it. Bokuto came to the realization that it was his fault Akaashi had to be so involved. He should've let him leave this life while he still could. He shouldn't have made Akaashi stay by making him his _wakagashira_. This was his fault, too.

He rested his chin atop Akaashi's head, breathing the smell of his conditioner in Akaashi's raven hair while the younger of the two let out all his pent-up shame and despair.

Bokuto stayed and held Akaashi so long that he'd fallen asleep while his face was still streaked with tears. Bo smiled softly to himself when he saw Akaashi had finally been at peace, dark eyelashes against his soft pale skin, sharp eyebrows no longer knit, his usual aloof expression traded for a heavenly one. Bokuto let his hand caress the other man's cheek in a light manner, careful not to wake him. And before he fell asleep, he kissed Akaashi on the forehead and only wished that they could stay like this forever.

When Bokuto woke that next morning, though, he found that Akaashi had left, his place in bed already cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i think im going to update this fic AT LEAST once a month on the third of each month (and depending on how far i get with chapters, maybe even the seventeenth as well in the future, but for now, it’s just gonna be the third). thank y’all so much for the support!! love yall!!  
> stay safe out there!


	3. Akaashi Keiji's First Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo reflects on his past with Akaashi while nursing a very drunk Bokuto.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> serving angst 7 days a week, 24 hours a day

"Does Keiji hate me?"

" _Huh_?"

Kuroo swiveled in his stool to face Bokuto, who, after only two drinks, was already slumped over on the bar, his face flushed. "Tch. I dunno." Kuroo answered helpfully as exhaled a puff of smoke from the cigar in his left hand. He swore not to both drink and smoke at the same time to Kenma, so he chose smoking for the night. "Didn't he sleep at your place last night?" 

Bo blinked confusedly under the dim lights of the lounge. The two of them had agreed to meet in a private one downtown so they could talk about anything they wanted. And also so no one knew that Bokuto Koutarou, the young and fearful yakuza _oyabun_ , was a _massive_ lightweight. 

"I mean, yes..." 

"Well, he wouldn't sleep with someone he doesn't like, right?" 

Bokuto sat upright in his stool, nearly falling out of it, a vindicated expression on his face all the while. "We didn’t have sex last night!"

Kuroo paused with his cigar halfway to his mouth. "Wait, you didn't?" 

"No!" Bokuto shook his head so forcefully, Kuroo worried that it'd snap off. "You think that just because a handsome guy wants to stay over, I'd take advantage of him?!" 

Kuroo held a hand up in surrender. "Okay, okay. I just assumed... since you guys used to... y'know." 

Bokuto rested his head against the cool mahogany of the bar once more, seeming to deflate immediately. "Yeah... I know." 

Kuroo stared down at his best friend's drunk form before shrugging and filling his lungs with bitter smoke once more. Since they were in a private, thick-walled lounge above the nightclub they owned, it was one of the few indoor areas Kuroo knew of where it was allowed. "How long had you two been dating before...?" 

He asked as if he didn't already know the answer to that question. 

Bokuto laid his head on its side to face Kuroo's general direction. He didn't need Kuroo to finish his question to know what he was going to say. "Lil' more than two years." They'd broken up when Bokuto became the _oyabun_ because they knew their relationship couldn't continue with him being under such scrutinization. But they still largely stayed close afterward, sometimes talking openly about old memories, exchanging fun banter, and sleeping over at each other's homes. It sometimes led to more, and sometimes didn't, and the two still carried on like it was normal. They might as well have still been dating, honestly. 

Kuroo patted Bo's spiky black-and-silver hair. "I don't think Akaashi could ever hate you, bro." He chuckled to himself, but not out of humor. "Besides, why would you even think something so ridiculous?" 

The silver-and-black haired man groaned under his breath, considering how much information was too much to tell Kuroo. It's not that he didn't trust his best friend and _shategashira_. He just seemed to know Akaashi was a bit of a difficult subject for the both of them. "Well... ever since... the incident..." 

Kuroo nodded, inhaling another breath of smoke to shake off his immediate guttural reaction. 

"well, he's been... different. More distant." Bo's white eyebrows knitted together over his hazy, drunken gaze. "And even colder than usual. I dunno, it's almost like he's a whole different person." 

In response, his best friend shrugged and examined the patterns in the bar's wood, thinking quietly to himself for a bit before answering. "I mean... maybe he needs some space. He _did_ almost die... y'know, back there." 

"Ah. Yeah, maybe that's it." Bokuto pouted, the expression reminding Kuroo of their high school years, when he'd made the same face after spiking a volleyball just outside of the court lines. "But I wish he'd talk to me about it instead of just avoiding me all the time." 

"Oh... yeah, I don't blame ya. But I've also heard cases of people completely changing after they've gone through something like that. They can sort of lose who they were before, you know." 

"No, that can't be it..." 

"Oh?" 

Bokuto blinked a few times, and Kuroo could tell he was remembering something. That'd be one of the only reasons he'd be thinking so deeply on this. Maybe more had occurred between the two of them than he'd let on. Kuroo was curious, of course, but knew that when it mattered, Bokuto wouldn't crack under pressure. At least, not anymore. 

Bo responded hesitantly. "Well... he treats me differently and all, but he's still there, you know? He... still calls me Koutarou, and he... he still looks at me the same way." He absentmindedly ran a hand over his knee while staring at the ice slowly melt in his empty glass. "Sometimes, anyway." 

Yeah. Kuroo took another drag of his cigar, already knowing how heavily he was gonna be leaning on it to feel better tonight. His body felt unusually weighted. 

"Hey, Kuroo?" 

"Yeah, boss?" 

"What happened inside the warehouse?" 

Kuroo paused, reluctant. It was ludicrous to hide information from your higher-up. That was one of the first lessons he'd learned when he began. "Well... why couldn't you ask 'Kaashi himself?" 

The other man half-groaned and half-whined in reply. "Don't wanna." 

"He's your _wakagashira_ , isn't he? It's not like he'd hide that from you."

Bokuto rested his head on its side so that he could directly look at Kuroo, his amber eyes now unusually sober. It made Kuroo shift uncomfortably in his stool. "But you're also here now, aren't you? Why can't _you_ just tell me?"

Kuroo sighed and stared at the ceiling as he tried to formulate a reply. It was brutal, being in there with only Akaashi and the alleged spy. He'd never seen the younger man so... unhinged. "He- I told you, he got him to talk." 

"Kuroo..." 

"That's all there is." Kuroo added hastily. "It was standard procedure. Akaashi pulled some of the guy's nails off, plied out a few teeth, broke a few bones here and there... stuff like that." 

The group didn't have time to use slower, psychological methods of interrogation, even if they were usually more effective. If that were the case, it would've been Kenma who handled it. But that night, they had to get the information and get rid of the suspect as soon as possible, so it was up to Akaashi. After all, he had a little more... expertise in the methods of physical torture compared the rest of the crew. Kuroo still remembered how he got chills when he saw Akaashi snap on his leather gloves with a cold intent to inflict pain in his eyes. How Akaashi barely ever flinched when his victim screamed in pure, white-hot agony. How Akaashi meticulously and slowly performed every procedure to induce the most pain. It was the stuff of nightmares. 

But Kuroo remembered the way Akaashi's hands shook, too, when he finally stood and brushed the dust off his knees. How Akaashi's face almost showed a shadow of remorse. It was like a hint of the kinder, more innocent boy he once was came pouring through the cracks of his cold façade. 

The image of the sheer amount of blood on Akaashi's shirt came back to Bokuto immediately. Akaashi had never had that much blood on him after doing the "standard procedure."

Obviously, there was something missing from that story that Kuroo wasn't telling Bokuto. The latter knew that. And the former knew he knew that. Their eyes refused to meet. 

After a brief moment, Bokuto sighed, his shoulders easing as he did. He opened his mouth to say something, thought against it, then opened it again. "Hey... while you and Keiji were a thing... did he ever... give you the cold shoulder when he was upset?"

Kuroo pressed his lips together. Of course he'd change the subject out of nowhere. A part of him was thankful they didn't have to talk about that night at the warehouse anymore. Another was very much not. When Kuroo agreed to hang out with Bokuto tonight, he didn't think that his personal past with Akaashi would come up. Sure, the two were still good friends, but this was a bit of a sore subject Bokuto and Kuroo wordlessly agreed to never talk about again. 

_The alcohol must've made him loose-lipped_ , Kuroo realized. "How should I know?" He tried to say lightheartedly. "You dated him longer than I did." 

"Only by, like, what, a few months?" Bokuto's words were already beginning to slur slightly. 

"Shouldn't you still know by now how Akaashi acts when he's upset?" Kuroo mumbled. He blinked in realization at how he just talked to his _boss._ He didn't know why he was being so bitter. 

Bokuto had gotten Akaashi fair and square. He'd known him longer and spent more time with him and everything. Besides, Kuroo had Kenma now. And Kuroo and Bokuto were best friends. And him and Akaashi were...

Regardless, he was supposed to be happy now. 

Right? 

"I..." Bokuto traced the rim of his whiskey glass with a finger, and Kuroo swore he could see the dusty cogs turning in his head. In a loving way, of course. "I should. I know that. But... now that I'm looking back... maybe it was always more about me when we were together, you know?" 

_He admits it?_ Kuroo cocked a brow at Bokuto, almost unaware he would ever come to such a conclusion on his own. 

"And..." Bo's eyes cleared for a moment with a frightening soberness. "I regret it so much, man. I should've cherished him more while I still could. I... I get it. I treated him well, but I never took the time to really listen, you know? And now..." He sniffled. 

Kuroo sighed heavily and patted his friend on the back, knowing that if a drunk Bokuto Koutarou was hard to handle, a crying one was even worse. And one that was both drunk and crying? Inconsolable. You'd just have to pray to whatever god you believed in that he'd get over it eventually. Maybe even all of them. "Man... you really are a mess, you know that, Bo?" 

No response. 

Kuroo looked away, thinking for a moment. He took a puff of his cigar. Then another, out of stress. Finally, he decided on what he was going to say. He sighed and shook his head. "Akaashi usually wasn't the passive aggressive type. If something was bothering him, whether it was about me or himself, he would tell me. Though he had a hard time talking about himself and his problems because he thought it felt... selfish." 

Bokuto chuckled bitterly to himself as he ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, that sounds about right. Guess he's always been like that." 

"Yeah..." Kuroo rubbed the back of his neck. He really needed a drink right about now. It was a good thing Bokuto was drunk off his ass, because that meant it was only Kuroo who was uncomfortable here. 

The truth was, it's not that Kuroo resented Bokuto at all. He loved him like the brother he never had. And he certainly never felt any towards Akaashi. But there was something about seeing them together, about seeing Akaashi laugh at Bokuto's antics the same way he used to laugh at Kuroo's that made him feel a little empty. 

He had Kenma now, though. He had for about two months now. And his company helped. The best thing about dating a childhood best friend was that you didn't have to go through that dreaded talking phase, you could just jump right into romantic intimacy and there was about a 75% chance things wouldn't be painfully awkward. Kuroo liked that. He liked Kenma. He liked being with him. But he had to admit that he liked being with Akaashi, too. And maybe he still missed him. Just a little bit. 

While driving Bokuto home, he thought back on when he first met Akaashi at a volleyball training camp. He'd been awestruck by Fukurodani's new first-year setter. Not only was his skill consistent, but he was damn gorgeous, too. He remembers making Bokuto introduce him to Akaashi and feeling electricity and raw heat surge up his arm when Akaashi shook hands with him. He remembers Akaashi's discreet, cheeky smirk as he managed a setter dump on him. The smell of sweat, the yells echoing throughout the gym, the late nights practicing.

And then he remembers him and Akaashi feverishly making out in the equipment closet on their last day, how it felt to let his fingers reach up his _kouhai's_ shirt, the way he realized with some difficulty that Akaashi was a better kisser than him, how his heart beat so hard and fast, he was afraid people could hear it from outside. They decided to begin dating a few weeks afterward.

_And yet..._

Kuroo glanced over again at the passenger seat, at how Bokuto was slumped against the window, already knocked out cold. Kuroo cussed under his breath, relishing in how the lingering, rich coating of smoke in his throat made his voice deeper. He couldn't keep looking back on the past like this. It wasn't fair to Bokuto. Or Akaashi. Or Kenma. Not even himself. 

He'd been selfish, too, he admitted it. They were all supposed to be friends now. He was supposed to forget all about it. Kuroo still watched as he sped past the lights of the city, though, and wondered, how could I? 

He had been Akaashi's first kiss.

The first person Akaashi had dated. 

The first person Akaashi had made love with. 

The first person to make Akaashi genuinely laugh. 

Kuroo had been a number of firsts for Akaashi. 

But Kuroo also knew, deep down, that he would never be Akaashi's first love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter should be uploaded on January 17th, but if it isn't, it's because I'm behind!  
> thank you guys so much for reading! Happy Holidays! :D


	4. The Price of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo returns home to Kenma and talks with some long-time friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll edit it later, i swear !

After dropping off that unreasonably heavy owl bastard at home and tucking him in for the night, Kuroo drove back towards his and Kenma's apartment in the city. While weaving his way through the streets of Tokyo, he let his eyes drift towards the illuminated time on the dashboard. 

12:37 am.

_Ah, shit._ He thought. He had to be up early tomorrow to check up on his subordinates in West Tokyo. Bokuto had asked him to do so the week before, since that area was closest to Sakusa's turf. And they've been pushing the bounds for a while now. Kuroo wondered how much longer they could last in this state of begrudging peace until they broke out once more into an all-out war. There wasn't much else they could do. Surely Bokuto knew they couldn't keep going on like this, either. He was much more of a pacifist, though. It's not like he was the one who was going to incite conflict here. They had too much to lose. 

It was Sakusa they had to be careful about. One more small tip in the scales, and everything they'd worked so hard to preserve could come crumbling down in an instant. 

Kuroo unlocked the apartment door and found Kenma in front of their huge widescreen, playing some first person shooter that Kuroo assumed to be the latest one Kenma had raved to him about the other day. _Good_ , Kuroo thought to himself. He's keeping up his instincts. Maybe not in the most ideal way, but he's doing it nonetheless. 

Kenma briefly glanced behind the couch at the sound of keys clinking. "Hey." 

"Hey. You eat yet?" 

"Yeah. Fukunaga and Tora came by. Fukunaga made risotto." 

Kuroo sighed in relief. Kenma was always stubborn about eating, but it seemed that when Fukunaga was the one cooking, he was always willing. "Cool. When did they le-"

He was interrupted by the sound of a metal bowl clanging in the kitchen, followed by the telltale sound of Taketora cussing under his breath while Fukunaga chuckled. Ah. So they never left. Kuroo popped his head into the next room. "Oi. What's goin' on in here?" 

At least a cup of flour was scattered across the black granite countertops and another cup all over Fukunaga and Tora's clothes. Both of their heads of black hair now looked more like powdered wigs. "We're making mango pudding." Fukunaga told Kuroo in his usual deadpan way. 

"With... flour?" 

Fukunaga and Taketora exchanged glances. The latter sheepishly scratched his head. "Oh, yeah. Guess we didn't even need flour, huh?" 

"That's what I said, but you took it out and made a mess anyway~" Fukunaga sing-songed, his lips already threatening to curve into a smug grin. 

"Sh-Shut up!" 

Kuroo looked at the both of them, then at the mess, and sighed as he ran a hand through his spiky hair. I'm too old for this, he thought. "Okay, just... clean up when you're done. Use the guest bedroom tonight if you guys need it." 

His two former teammates nodded at him before going back to bickering over whose fault the mess was in the first place. From what Kuroo had seen, it was Taketora's fault, but maybe that's just because Fukunaga always looked innocent enough to where nothing was ever his fault. Almost like Kenma. _Speaking of Kenma..._

Kuroo drifted back towards the living room, where his partner continued to concentrate on his game. "You looked over the finance reports from the last quarter, right?" Kuroo asked as he plopped down next to him on the leather couch. Kenma barely even looked up. Kuroo never took something like that with offense, though. He’d known Kenma long enough to know that he was just in the zone. Despite what people may think, it’s not like he tries to ignore people, it mostly just happens to be that way. 

"Yeah. You should probably know that two shipments have gone missing in the past three months. They weren't too big, though, so I wouldn't worry about it, but it's definitely something to keep in mind." 

Kuroo worked at his bottom lip as Fukunaga and Taketora continued to nonchalantly bicker in the room over. He didn't want to insinuate anything- not until he knew more, at least- but he figured it may have been possible that Sakusa's clan was behind that. Atsumu Miya was Sakusa's *wakagashira now (for reasons Kuroo couldn't fathom), and intercepting shipments sounded exactly like something he'd come up with. _Those damned Golden Foxes..._ "What else?" Kuroo was almost afraid to ask, but he still had to help maintain the connection between the business and action sides. 

"Our profits from the nightclubs and exchange through the city have also gone down by about 7%." Kenma continued without a hitch. The best thing about him being the financial advisor was that he could remember everything, even minute details, and recite it word for word to his superiors. His golden eyes met Kuroo's own only for a split second before darting back to the illuminated screen in front of them. "Otherwise, everything else seems pretty standard. Personally, though, it'd probably be best to start increasing foreign and domestic shipments." 

Kuroo cocked a brow. "Really? Why?" 

Kenma pressed pause on his game. Kuroo froze, his eyes widening. 

So this was serious. 

The younger man sighed as he started to grimace. For a moment, he didn't speak. And when he did, his words surprised Kuroo even more. "There's a clan war brewing. When it happens, we might not have as much access to trade and... stuff." 

"But Kenma," Kuroo said as he leaned into his partner. "I thought you said we could avoid it happening altogether if we were careful. You didn't want war, either." 

"I didn't." Kenma admitted as he unconsciously stroked the other's head. Kuroo's scalp tingled with goosebumps as he did so. Kuroo felt the stress of the day seem to flow out of him in waves as the sensation of Kenma’s light touch filled him with a certain warmth. "But at this point, Sakusa's men keep pushing us, unprovoked. They want war, Tetsurou, and I don't think they're gonna stop until we give it to them."

"No.” Kuroo responded immediately. “There has to be another way. We can't go through that again." Kuroo's voice seemed much more hoarse than he intended. But could he help it? The skirmishes away from the public eye were more deadly than one would think. The shootouts at trading points. The ambushes. The needlessly violent, repetitive actions from both sides that demanded the other to surrender and give them what they wanted. They'd already lost so many last time. 

Tatsuki Washio.

Yamato Sarukui.

Shuichi Anahori. 

_...Morisuke Yaku._

They all got killed. 

And for what? 

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing. 

They were so young, and they, along with so many others, died fighting a war that they never wanted. 

Kuroo couldn't do that to his own men. Just because Sakusa wanted war, that didn't mean they had to play into his hands. "There has to be another way." Kuroo repeated, his deep voice trembling slightly. Every loss, even though it's been years, still haunts him. And he knew that if they waged war now, he would only cause other people to feel the exact same. He wouldn't have wished that type of pain on anybody. 

"I don't think there is anymore." Kenma replied softly. He hugged his lover closer, knowing the same pain as his own. He, too, saw them in his dreams. He, too, remembered Yaku's dying breath. And the promise they couldn't fulfill. "We can always try negotiations, but... I can't imagine Sakusa even agreeing to that." 

Kuroo hated to admit he was right. Either way, there was something to lose. He laughed without humor, the raw and bitter sound escaping his throat in low bursts. "Man... I hate this." 

Kenma nodded solemnly in agreement. For a while, the two simply held each other, with only the voices of their former teammates in the kitchen to fill the hollow silence. Kuroo was now sorta glad they came. 

He'd missed them. 

He couldn't keep in contact with most of his old friends or family members anymore since becoming _shategashira._ It put them in danger. But since Fukunaga used to be a Silver Lynx, too, he's an exception. He was good at what he did. Level-headed. Agile. Even strict when he needed to be. Taketora also knew about the whole business because of Fukunaga.

He was actually the one who begged Fukunaga to quit while he still could. 

So they were the only two people from Kenma and Kuroo's past who knew and weren't in the yakuza themselves. But they were, of course, smart enough not to tell anyone. Kuroo had to admit it was nice to have third opinions on things. He'd ask them what he should do now, but... it was pretty much out of his hands now, anyways. 

The younger man next to him tilted his head to face him. "Whatever happens, just..." A slight blush crept across his cheeks. Kuroo smiled a little at the cute sight. It was almost as if his day just got a hundred times better. "...just be careful. Okay?" 

Kuroo leaned forward to place a quick kiss on the other's forehead. "I will." He murmured. 

Kenma shifted his eyes back towards the television and picked his controller up once more to unpause. "...good." 

Kuroo felt his heart lift, if only a bit. He still found it endearing that Kenma had trouble expressing tender emotions. Luckily, he didn't. And that more than made up for the gap there. "Love you." He startled both himself and Kenma with how easily he was able to say it. Especially himself, though. 

Kenma started blushing even more. He didn't dare turn his head over to look at Kuroo. He couldn't lose the faint bit of concentration he still had left. "I... love you... too." He said reluctantly, his voice only slightly above a whisper. Kuroo opened his mouth to be even sappier, but was interrupted. 

"Gross!" Taketora exclaimed as he and Fukunaga filed out of the kitchen. "Get a room, you two!" 

Kuroo turned back to see that the pair had luckily been able to dust off most of the flour from themselves. "Oh shaddup, Tora, you're the last person I'd wanna hear that from."

Kenma glanced over his shoulder briefly, his eyes narrowed. "Aren't you and Fukunaga literally engaged?" 

"That's not the point," The two answered at the same time, but at vastly different volumes. Tora was loud and beet-red while Fukunaga simply held up a hand as if to object in the small voice that he always used. 

Kuroo blinked a few times to process what was just said. By Kenma, that is. "Wait. You guys are engaged? What? Congrats! Since when?" 

Tora looked to the ground, face flushed even further as Fukunaga, unfazed as ever, took the former's hand in a gesture that looked like second nature, even to Kuroo. How did Kuroo not notice the silver ring on Fukunaga's hand earlier? "Hm..." Fukunaga tapped his chin with his free hand, deep in thought. "Since... a week ago? Two? That sounds right, right, Tora?" He snickered to himself at his unintended repetition. 

The man next to him let his lips curl into a begrudging smile, probably seeing the event unfold all over again in his mind. "Yeah. That's right." He squeezed the slightly taller man's hand in affirmation. Fukunaga grinned slightly in response. Which, in his case, meant he was ecstatic. 

Kuroo couldn't help but stare at how their hands slotted together, fingers intertwined, palms pressed together. How Tora visibly softened after the second mention of his engagement to Fukunaga. The way they looked at each other in simple, adoring gazes, even after so many years being together. He wasn't sure how he felt upon the sight, but decided from the uneasy toss of his stomach and the sudden dryness of his throat that it wasn't good. 

He wasn't... jealous of their relationship, was he? 

"When's the wedding? You guys having a traditional one, or...?" Kenma questioned, eyes still diligently trained on the screen in front of him. Kuroo was grateful for the distraction from his own thoughts. 

Taketora glanced at Fukunaga. The two exchanged some words telepathically. After a few moments, Fukunaga ended up answering for the both of them again. "We're not sure yet. It's probably gonna be in the Spring, when the weather's not too hot or cold... and Tora's thinking of doing a beachside ceremony." Huh. Kuroo never took Taketora for the romantic type. Looks like he was still learning new things everyday. "In case it wasn't already clear, you two are invited, by the way. Also, there's mango pudding in the fridge now. It’ll be chilling overnight." Fukunaga added nonchalantly. 

"Thanks." Kenma and Kuroo responded simultaneously. 

"But you guys better not bring any of that yakuza shit with you, okay?" Tora, seeming to have found his voice again, gave Kenma and Kuroo a look. They all knew how cautious he was about these things. Fukunaga had almost gotten killed in that line of work more times than he himself could count. "I swear, if some rival clan or whatever comes barging in, guns blazing, I'm gonna kick your asses before I kick theirs." 

Fukunaga's cat-like eyes flickered with faint concern as he looked at Tora. He briefly squeezed the other man's hand. "Remember what the doctor said about your blood pressure." 

"I know, Shouhei." Taketora responded in a noticeably gentler tone. 

"Just checking." 

"Yeah, yeah, don't even worry about it. Why don't you two scram and actually get a room yourselves, yeah? While you're there, I'm sure Fukunaga can find a way to get you to relax, right?" Kuroo smirked slightly, so as to not piss off Tora further but still make sure he knew what he was implying. 

Grumbling in mild agreement (and too tired to protest or be embarrassed further), Taketora made his way down the hall to the left, Fukunaga trailing closely behind. They'd stayed the night enough times to where they knew where to go. With that, every trace of them was gone for the time being. Kuroo figured they'd probably quiet down soon, too. Or get very, very loud, depending on where the evening led them. 

Exhaling, Kuroo leaned back into the couch. Man, it was crazy to think that these guys from his high school volleyball team were now getting married. I mean, sure, it was normal at their age, but even so... Tora and Fukunaga? They were still immature baby first-years in Kuroo's mind. And now they were... adults. Who did... adult stuff. Like... y'know... taxes. 

Kenma didn't even need to glance at Kuroo to know he felt at least slightly troubled. "It's a little crazy to think about, huh?" 

"Yeah, no kidding..." Kuroo ran a hand over his face. "I mean, I would've never guessed they'd get together to begin with, and now they've been going steady for almost nine years, and now they're... I mean, they're actually gonna get married." 

"It only seems like yesterday, Fukunaga was telling dumb jokes after practice while Tora offered to fight everyone. He was yelling all the time back then." 

Kuroo had war flashbacks to the time a calm first year Fukunaga had to hold back a very fired-up first-year Taketora, who threatened to fight a referee who judged one of his spikes as out of bounds. To this day, Kuroo still isn't sure if he was being serious or not. "I'm actually kind of glad they got together." Kenma continued. "He stopped yelling as much when he got with Fukunaga." 

Huh. Now that he thought about, yeah. It seemed they may have been a better fit than Kuroo had anticipated. He wondered if people looked at him and Kenma that way sometimes. 

"You know, that's actually how he proposed." 

"Who, Tora?" 

"Yeah." Kenma replied as he maneuvered his character over some crates in what looked like a modern port setting. "Fukunaga told me he sort of just... shouted the proposal in Fukunaga's general direction while holding out the ring." 

Yup. Kuroo could believe that. Man, what he would've given to be there. Taketora pulled that sort of thing all the time at training camps to the female managers before, but one could only imagine how much more flustered he was at that moment, in front of a man he actually knew and loved very well. "Wow. That does sound like him." Kuroo mused as he leaned against his partner once more. Not all the way, though. He didn't want to crush the poor thing while he was in the middle of a shootout. In moments like these, he wondered how he could ever doubt their bond. They'd gone back years, after all. It was expected. But in moments unlike this... Kuroo couldn't help but question things. 

Kenma let himself drift into Kuroo, too, but only a bit. The game was getting pretty intense. Yet, Kenma still found it in himself to reminisce on the good old days. "Do you... remember that time Tora made a bet with Fukunaga that if he could eat more yakisoba buns in two minutes, then Fukunaga would have to buy him lunch for a week?" 

In hindsight, maybe the entire team should've been clued into Taketora's crush earlier. 

"And then Tora still lost, but he waged a rematch anyway?" Kuroo grinned. "Yeah, that was borderline tragic to witness." Kenma's expression grew... what Kuroo could only describe as sentimental. 

He paused the game- even in the most crucial moment, which was so unlike him (two pauses in one day? Kuroo thought maybe Kenma had gotten sick after all)- and laid his head on Kuroo's shoulder, sighing. "Sometimes I kinda miss high school. I mean, it was shitty sometimes, but..." He trailed off, but Kuroo had a clue on what he would've said next. Because he felt the same way. 

Kuroo chuckled, warm nostalgia filling his gut and creeping up his chest like a snake ensnaring its victim. When was the last time they were able to fool around like that? When was the last time they were all able to have fun, not having to worry about managing an entire yakuza clan? When was the last time they were that young? 

"Me too." Kuroo whispered hoarsely. He let an arm wrap around the shoulders of his lover, who closed their eyes in return. 

Kuroo's heart ached for a past he'd already lived and a future that could've been. Truly, all he'd known for the past few years was yearning and pain. 

When would it all end?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can't make any promises to when the next chapter will be out, but hopefully it'll be sometime in march!  
> hope you enjoyed the new installment of Gunmetal Blue!

**Author's Note:**

> this is mostly unedited stuff from the Notes app on my phone, but i will be sure to come back and revise it soon! hope you enjoyed!  
> I know not much happened in this chapter, but much more will in the later ones, this one just serves as an introduction!


End file.
